


don’t know how to keep loving you

by sidetrackedandoverlapped



Series: johnny bond series [3]
Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Break Up, F/M, Heavy Angst, Reader-Insert, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 13:42:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20779535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidetrackedandoverlapped/pseuds/sidetrackedandoverlapped
Summary: sometimes forever isn’t as long as you expect(based on 'don't know how to keep loving you' and 'comfort' by the beautiful and talented julia jacklin)





	don’t know how to keep loving you

The day you met Johnny Bond, you knew there was no one else for you. Maybe you were naïve because eighteen and twenty was still young and you both had plenty of time to meet the love of your lives. But the moment he strummed his guitar with a cigarette stuck to his bottom lip and a smirk that had you weak at the knees, and he saw you sipping a beer and wearing his favourite band’s shirt, you both knew there was nobody else.

You were at a house party of a friend, of a friend from uni with a boy who you could hardly remember the name of by the time he ditched you for a pretty blonde from his chemistry lectures. You didn’t mind in hindsight because you had nothing in common, but you still downed more drinks than necessary in agitation. The band performing were another case of a friend of a friend who was getting supplied with free alcohol to do a small backyard gig. It didn’t take long for you and the curly haired guitarist to drift together.

“You’re very good at guitar.” You mumbled as he leant up against the side of the shitty brick wall of the rundown apartment. It was a secluded area that kept you away from the haze of weed and nicotine. He gave you a lazy grin and slowly nodded.

“I’d fucking hope so I practise enough.” You gave him a half-assed smile and turned to make a move.

“I saw that prick come in with you and leave with someone else.”

“He was definitely a prick.” Sighing, you turned back to him. He was back to sucking on a cigarette but now he had a bottle of beer instead of a guitar in his grip.

“Fucking prick. I’m John.” His chuckle was deep and the moment you gripped his hand you both knew that you would never love another person again. That night you laid down in his arms and hadn’t left since. Together you built a home and everything you planned always included each other. His friends were your friends and your friends were his friends while his parents loved you and your parents loved him. You watched from the side of the stage as he joined Catfish and began his trek to rock and roll stardom while he proudly bought every book you ever published. After ten years of loving each other you had never grown bored. That’s why this was so difficult.

“Can we please talk about this!?” Johnny was trying to act unafraid but the crack in his voice gave away his panic. Wiping away the tears was pointless because there was no chance of them slowing down, but you tried anyways.

“Fuck off.” You sobbed. Unzipping the suitcase on the bed shot pains straight into your chest and you tried hard to fight through the pain. You started chucking random articles of clothing into it with force you didn’t realise you had.

“Y/N, baby please!” His arms tried to circle around you form but you quickly moved away, as if scared his touch would burn.

“Go away John. You’re making this harder than it has to be.” That was a lie. This would be hard no matter what.

“You’re making this harder! Your making this into something bigger than it should be.” He pulled at the end’s of his curls before moving to unpack your suitcase. Moving forward you pushed his hands away and covered the clothes like valuables.

“Fuck off!” You sobbed even harder. Leaning on the bed for support, he took the opportunity to wrap you tightly in his arms. Resting his head in the crook of your shoulder, he began sobbing into your neck.

“We can talk about this. We can fix this.” You tried to shake your head, but it seemed like too much effort.

“It’s not going to work.” Your voice was raw, and you tried your hardest not to look at anything but the ground. You couldn’t bear to look at the small reminders of the life you had lived beside Johnny. You didn’t want to accidently look at the photo of you both standing before Abbey Roads Studio, nor did you want to stare to long at the black hat you jokingly bought him for your first anniversary that he had become so attached to. Most of all, you definitely didn’t want to look at the bed where you spent countless mornings waking up in each other’s arms, making love and falling asleep together at the end of the day. When you moved your foot, however, you revealed the red wine stain from when you had bought the house together and spent your first night in an empty room surrounding by candles and pizza. The small memory hit you so vividly you collapsed to the floor in a sobbing mess. Johnny quickly followed and pulled you into his lap so that your foreheads were resting against one another.

“My love. We can work this out. If you want that family and white picket fence life than I’ll give you that.” He begged. That wasn’t the mindset he had over lunch two days ago. Ten years, and neither of you had thought to ask about what you dreamt of in the future. When you off-handingly mentioned your first-born daughter would be named Stella, he laughed in your face.

“God couldn’t imagine anything worse than kids.” He continued laughing and carried on by telling you his plans for the night that consisted of visiting some mates and getting drunk and stoned out of his mind. When he went off that night, rowdy and laughing out the door with Lou, you were left alone to think. You wanted kids and a family. You had been building a home that you hoped would be perfect for kids, while he had already built his dream home for two.

“That’s not how it works.” You cried and shoved your face into your trembling hands.

“What do you fucking mean?”

“IT’S NOT JUST A SMALL DECISION! You can’t just decide to have kids just to keep me happy.” He cried into his hand and huffed in frustration.

“I want you! Forever. I’ll do whatever the fuck it takes for that to happen.”

“So you want me to live with a man who still acts like he did when I met him ten fucking years ago? Getting stoned and drunk every weekend? You’re thirty! How can you be so content with a life like yours!?” You crawled forward to dresser and started bundling more clothes together.

“Can you stop for one minute and talk to me!? Can you let me talk for once in this fucking relationship!?” He tried to grab the clothes but you stood up quickly and managed to dodge his hands.

“Fuck you. I’m leaving John. I’ll come and grab more stuff tomorrow.” You forcefully zipped up the suitcase and pulled it to the floor. Before you could turn to the door, two strong arms wrapped around your torso. Pulling himself to his knees, John buried his head into your stomach and sobbed harder than he ever had before.

“Please don’t go. We’ll figure something out. I can change. We can change. Fuck baby please don’t do this.” His voice was muffled in your shirt and you were sure you had never felt pain like this before. Your hand hovered above the curls you loved so much, and you almost gave in; almost. With a choked sob you pushed his hands from your hips and stepped back. You tried to say ‘I love you’ but all that came out was a choked noise. Turning on your heel, you walked out the door without sparing a single glance at the love of your life crumbling to floor behind you.

+++

You didn’t end up going back the next day, nor the day after. In fact, it wasn’t until a week later when you got a frantic call from Van stressing over John trying to cancel all their upcoming shows that you decided it was time to move out once and for all. Leaving your parents house quietly, you drove back and parked in the driveway. Tears began to form at the sight of the house you had tried to build a home out of. You stared at the badly painted blue fence you had painted with John when he had got home from his first tour and complained how ugly it looked. You tried not to think to hard on how much you laughed that day, nor did you care to reminisce on how he had bundled you up and kissed your face one hundred times to show you how much he had missed you. Once you reached the door, you stared at it blankly. Should you knock? Your keys weighed down your pocket, but this didn’t feel like your home anymore. Deciding against knocking, you let yourself in and quietly shut the door behind you. It was dark, no lights on and all the curtains drawn. The stench of stale cigarettes made your nose scrunch up.

“John?” You called out but it was hardly above a whisper. You walked forward and tried to block the memories trying to evade your mind. When you turned into the dining room, however, the crunch under your boot made that impossible. Looking down at the noise, you found fragments of glass surrounding a shattered photo frame. It was a photo of you, decked out in an 80’s outfit, standing proudly beside John in his NASCAR outfit. Down the middle of you both was a perfect crack and you tried harder to keep your tears bottled in. Walking over the mess you moved towards your bedroom. The door was wide open, and you had an unobstructed view of Johnny sitting on the bench-seat at the window. He was in nothing but a pair of sweatpants and staring out blankly while breathing in the nicotine. At his feet were some bottles filled up with cigarette butt’s and some empty chip packets. You didn’t want to interrupt his deep state and instead moved back to the dining room. You gently picked up the frame and moved it to the kitchen bench before sweeping the shards of glass into a dustpan. You then moved to clearing more empty bottles of the bench into a garbage bag and you weren’t surprised when John rushed to you, drawn by the noise. You both stared at each other for a few seconds before you carried on cleaning.

“I called you.” His voice was croaky and you couldn’t tell if he was angry or upset. Maybe both.

“I texted you and told you I was fine.” You couldn’t bare to look at his form. You didn’t want to see his bloodshot eyes, or the deep shadows beneath them. He looked terrible, and you didn’t look much better.

“I wanted you. I wanted to talk…” He wanted to continue but his voice cracked, and he had to stop to collect himself.

“I needed time alone.” You whispered. You leant against the kitchen sink and he moved to lean on the bench before you. Running a hand through his hair, he gave a stiff nod.

“Where did you go?”

“Hotel.” He frowned and shook his head.

“That costs money. Why didn’t you go to Lou’s?” You didn’t bother answering and simply shook your head. John wouldn’t be the only person you lost in this break-up and you had a blinding image of his parents greeting you with open arms every time you saw them.

“I’m going to pack some stuff…” The tears began again, and you sniffed to fight them back. John did the same thing.

“What?”

“We want a completely different life for the future bab… Bondy. We won’t work out, so it will be easier to just give up now.” You suddenly found the kettle an object of extreme interest and focused your eyes on that and nothing else.

“You’re giving up?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not even going to fight for us?”

“No.” He huffed at your answer and folding his arms. Sniffing back tears, he stared directly at you.

“I wanna fight for us.” He looked at you intently and you slowly moved your gaze to him. With a small sigh you finally looked into his eyes. The warmth you had always felt when you looked at him had vanished and now your chest was filled with a cold fever and pain.

“Why? So next year we can get into the same fight? And the year after? Or the year after? I want the life you despise John. You want a life I only found fun in my early twenties. Let me go. You can go and live the rock star life with your groupies and your drugs and one day you can settle with someone who is happy to live with your lifestyle. I can go off, fall in love again. Start a family and get married. I…”

“I don’t want you marrying anyone but fucking me! Why would I suddenly be interested in groupies when I have been solely focused on you for ten fucking years!?” He finally moved forward and you both wrapped your arms tightly around each other.

“It’ll be hard, but after time… after time you’ll be okay.”

“I can’t sleep without you.” He whispered into your hair. You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head.

“You’ll get better. You’ll be able to sleep and feel okay. Soon you’ll be back to thriving and living it up with the band. You’ve got good friends John. They’ll help you. I can’t be the one to help you anymore.” You finally looked up and when he looked down at you, the defeat in his eyes shone.

“What about you?” He whispered.

“One day I’ll get better. I’ll be able to sleep.” Your voice cracked but you carried on. “I’ll be able to go outside. I’ll be alright.”

“I wanna be able to give you the life you want Y/N.” He pressed a hard kiss to your forehead, and you nodded slightly.

“I know… in another life.” You whispered. You felt his tears fall on you just as he felt your tears soak his shirt.

“I don’t want you to leave. I… I don’t know who I’ll be without you.” You nodded in understanding. After all these years together, it was going to take a while for you to figure yourself out. Reaching up on you tiptoes you pressed the softest of kisses onto his cracked lips.

“I’ve been so happy all these years with you Johnny Bond. I wouldn’t change a thing.” You cried as you moved away, and he cried too.

“I would change this.” He muttered. But you both knew this was the end. Maybe you were naïve when you were eighteen, or maybe you truly would never love anyone they way you loved Johnny. But when you walked out the door for the final time, and John stared at you from the doorway as you reversed from the driveway, you knew you would never love anyone the way you loved him. But you would both be okay, one day.


End file.
